Seducing him in the tub smelling of vinegar was out of the question. There had to be some boundaries.

She put her hands over her face. Ah crap. What do I do now? Do I say something, do I not say something? I kept talking, keeping my voice as light as I could manage. Her shoulders shook slightly. She was crying. Fuck me. I sat there, not sure what to do with myself.

I’d give him a cup of coffee and a big helping of a knuckle sandwich. Generosity was a virtue and I was in the mood to be extremely virtuous.

Raphael was a bouda and they viewed sex as a fun recreational activity that should be practiced vigorously and often.

One day I'll kill him, you know.I glanced at her. She was deadly serious.

It was one of those idiotic things that could've been resolved in a split second. Tara had no right to touch Raphael, and once she did he had every right to punch her. She should've left it at that, and now she was dead because she didn't.

Shifting in the hospital bed had blown her closet door wide open.

It was his eyes. When you looked into them, you saw chained violence baring teeth and claws back at you.

Black hair, angelic face, and devil eyes.